Alzheimer's

13 Comments

Tags:
  • Emotional
  • ,
  • Loss
    • dragonfly1023
    • is thinking, once the tip is gone... it's pointless.

    Poem Commentary

    having witnessed a loved ones progressive memory loss to the point of non-recognition as a result of this terrible disease, I'm certain that these losses are not eternal.

    Alzheimer's

    Scattered recall surfaces
    like driftwood in the tide,
    strewn upon an empty beach,
    rediscovered,
    then washed away again.

    Relentless the current,
    so strong at times,
    it pulls from the heart
    and very soul
    to carry us apart.

    But believe these words
    and never doubt,
    when I look down
    you will
    be there.


    For the memories of
    the times we've shared,
    shall appear upon this shore,
    as I walk this path for all of time,
    and find our love once more.

    Poem Comments

    (13)

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    Chaos128 commented on Alzheimer's

    03-19-2010

    Affecting words, Dragon. It truly is a frightening circumstance, to watch a person you've known and loved for as long as you can remember, remain clearly in your vision and, at the same time, disappear.

    courage commented on Alzheimer's

    10-03-2009

    D, You wrote such a touching, heartfelt and moving poem about something so deeply personal and emotionally painful. My mom passed from this disease. Your words touched me deeply. I feel your pain. I want to thank you for sharing. Always remember the good times, and know there will be more. God Bless. C.

    latinangel commented on Alzheimer's

    07-25-2009

    I lost my father in law to this terrible disease last year. The hardest thing is making people understand its not their fault they can't remember. This is written with such beauty. I enjoyed reading it and the lovely memories it invoked.

    gmcookie commented on Alzheimer's

    07-23-2009

    I dont' recall a better rhyme, No matter how I try. But the cadences of other times Occasionally go by Thank You Dragonfly

    Tempestlady commented on Alzheimer's

    07-22-2009

    My mother would love this. My dad has old-timers as the boys call it. She worrys he will forget her n the end. I would encourage you to work on the rhyme and enter it another time. This one could really help some people. Write on.....

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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